Gemotions

He found the letter tucked inside a forgotten book. The paper, fragile with age, crackled in his hands. It was from Ben, apologising for that disastrous band breakup, years ago. Mark’s mouth twisted into a grimace.

He threw the letter onto the already overflowing kitchen counter. He hated how easily Ben had seemed to move on, becoming a successful musician, while Mark had slowly drifted. Why now? Why, when Mark was finally, maybe, just starting to feel settled?

He grabbed his guitar and began to tune it, his fingers fumbling. The strings seemed to mock him, reminding him of all the unfinished songs, the unfulfilled ambitions. A hot flush crept up his neck, and he slammed the instrument down on the table, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise quiet room. He would make them regret this intrusion. He would show them what he was capable of.